Ch-ch-changing. Titles and names, that is.

First and foremost, I have a new book out. It's The Blood Knife, the vampire novel that had been in a box set for three weeks. That fundraising promo is over and I've put the book up as a standalone. It'll go up in formats other than Kindle this weekend.


Ch-ch-changing.
Title and name changes. You knew I'd have a story about that. When I subbed my first book to Berkley, it went in as Enemy Within. Marketing didn't like that title. So, they asked for a name change. I wasn't thrilled, but I was eager to play nicely with the big kids. So I sent in a list of twenty possible other titles. Many blessings upon my ever-patient critique group(s) who helped brainstorm those, cause I was stuck after about five. Titles are so not my super power. Anyway, I sent the list. Marketing brought their own list. Not a single one of them stuck. After a week of wrangling, marketing went back to the editor and said, "Leave it." You know the rest. The book went out with the original title. I'd have loved to have been a fly on the wall at that marketing meeting. I really would. It would have been fascinating to hear what criteria made a good title versus a bad one. With that information, I might could have given them a better title option, but alas. I was not invited.

The only change that DID happen was in the name of the aliens in the book. The major bad guys are the Chekydran. Well. That's what they *became* because when I first conceived of them, their name had far fewer vowels. My point at the time was that not every species humans and humanoids ever encounter are going to have names that we can say. My agent at the time, who convinced me to buy a few vowels, argued that it didn't matter humans and humanoids were always going to name aliens something they could say, so I might as well throw my poor readers a bone and make the Chekydran readable. I'm glad I did. I can't even remember, now, how I had them spelled originally. So it clearly didn't matter.

Frankly, if I need to change a name, that gets caught in draft when my critique group catches that all of my character names start with the same letter of the alphabet or something. I've been lucky thus far. Editors haven't asked me to change anything I feel really strongly about. I expect that's just a matter of time, though.

Sometimes you've just gotta slap a new label on!

 I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been there…we’ve all written a character or chosen a book title only to have a CP/agent/editor strongly advise a change. 

Jeffe had a book title change, but never in her head. KAK had a handful of characters sport new ID’s, if you need some name inspiration check out her post. And Vivien’s confessed to writing about an Asahel…but we’ll never read about him. Hang around a couple more days and I’m sure you’ll find out some stories from Marcella and Veronica!

I love hearing stories from other writers, I love hearing about the book that wouldn’t leave their head, and I love hearing about the characters that shout and the ones that have to be pulled from the pages. I guess that means I’m interested in hearing about yours, but beyond the topic question of have you changed any names…I want to know how you got over the change. 

As writers we become attached to our characters and even our book titles. Our minds are consumed with them for varying periods of time, but consumed none the less. So, how do you leave behind something you’re attached to?

To date, I’ve only changed one character’s name. In one of my fantasy novels I had a MC, main character, named Boromir. 

Boromir? Boromir? Boromir? 

Well, he wasn’t playing hooky, but my agent strongly suggested I change his name since the only known Boromir is in Lord of the Rings. I wrestled with that for weeks because I love that name! I think there should be more Boromir’s ! But, in the end I changed it because I didn’t want readers to immediately have LotR Boromir pop into their heads. 

I made the change, and it was hard to get past! I finished that manuscript in May 2019 and when talking about this character I still sometimes slip and call him Boromir! I suppose it doesn’t help that I picked a similar sounding name, hmmm. 

Your turn. Have you had post-renaming blues? Did you get over it, or do you still mentally call them/the title by the original name?

The S-Apostrophe Conundrum

First, a million (maybe more) thank-yous to my publisher and editor for changing all my cringey titles. I do think up some terrible ones, and we needn't speak of those any further. As far as character names go, I don't think I've ever had to change one in a book I shared with anybody. (I do have a terrible manuscript with a slinky fallen angel named Asahel, which friends have said is a terrible name, but it doesn't really matter because no one will ever read this book. I will Office Space my computer with a hatchet before I share that pile.)  

However, I got a funny story about a character whose name-change has forever altered the way I write and critique.

My high school senior English teacher was kind of a badass. Not only was she stern and no-shits-given and made everybody read the Mahabharata in the days before non-Western canon was cool ("If you can read Dante and Milton, you can read this, too, because the entire world is not Christian," bless her), she was also the most feared teacher on campus: she would fail your ass and made all her AP students work for that extra grade point. She was also a published mystery author on the sly. 

Now, this was in the days when manuscripts were typed out on typewriters (those things with keys that predated the keyboard) and submitted on paper (that stuff you continue to get in the mail and dutifully recycle). If you think of an average manuscript comprising 300-odd pieces of paper, that's a crapton of typing. It makes my fingers hurt just thinking of it. And yet, writers back then did the thing. 

Some time before I had her for English, my teacher completed a manuscript, revised it, retyped it, and submitted it to her editor. Now, having done that a few times myself, I can imagine how that went down, passing along a little slice of your soul and hoping the person likes it even a little. Her editor took a while to get back to her, but when she did, the news was both elating and horrifying. The book was good, said the editor. She liked it overall, had a lot of nice things to say about the plot, and only had one minor, teeny little change. 

See, the main character in this mystery was named Rhys. Which ends in an S. (Those of you who've tried to name a character anything that ends in an S, you know what's coming and are cringing already.)

My teacher had punctuated her book correctly. She taught the stuff, ffs, so she knew how to make the possessive of a singular noun ending in S. You add apostrophe+S. Yes, yes, you do. (Fight me.) You only add the lone apostrophe if the noun is plural. That is, technically, the correct way to do it. 

However, so many people are convinced that the wrong way is correct (much like you folks who insist on putting two spaces between sentences because a typing teacher--it always comes back to the typing teacher--once told you to do it that way), the editor of this book feared that roughly half of all readers would be convinced that Rhys's was an error. Worse, if she changed it to Rhys' throughout, the other half of (better informed) readers would be convinced of same. 

There was no win here. She had to change his name. The main character's name. Which appeared roughly every page. 

My teacher, god bless her poor fingers, had to retype that entire bleepin' manuscript.

She also made sure her students knew of this torment so we would never have to endure a similar circle of hell. 

And that, dear critique-group friends, is why I continue to gently suggest you change your Marcus, Iris, Nikos, James, Chris, Alexis, and Frances character names to something that does not end in S. Do it for your readers. Do it for your own sanity. Do it in memory of my poor teacher's fingers. 

The Names Have Changed (Because The Editor Said So)

 A rose by any other name...is still Rose, because that's what her name was throughout the draft that took me eight years to write, damn it. Do you know how often I had to type that name, rework scenes with that name, have people call that name, eh? EH?

clears throat

What names have changed in my books during final edits that will forever be known to me as their original names? I changed a bunch of names in my high fantasy LARCOUT because my editor pointed out that half the names I had used invoked stereotypes and biases that clashed with the culture I had created. Fair. With some I agreed, others...not the editorial sword on which I was going to fall. Here are three changed-name examples from a book I published five years ago that still stick with me: 

1. Draft Name: Bishop; Pub Name: Rashan
2. Draft Name: Maynard; Pub Name: Dhaval
3. Draft Name: Phoebian; Pub Name: Sana

The Best Title That Never Was

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week concerns the reality of having to change names. We're asking the crew if they've ever had to change the name(s) of a character or place in a book after we'd drafted it? Who is the character who will forever go by their "unpublished" name in our minds?

For me, it wasn't a character. As far as I can recall, I've never had to change the name of a character or place in a book. If I did, it never mattered enough to me that it stuck in my head. I *have* had to change titles, however, and the one that has never left my head is for the book that became ROGUE'S PAWN, book one in my Covenant of Thorns trilogy.

This was my first published novel - released in 2012 - and was the story that invaded my dreams and wrenched me from a nonfiction career and into fiction. It was, in fact, fantasy romance, but I didn't know what to call it then. I started writing it in 2005, querying it in 2007 and it took me YEARS to sell. 

All that time, I called it by another title in my head: OBSIDIAN.

The title has a lot of shades of meaning and symbolic layers in the story. That book is forever OBSIDIAN in my head.

Unfortunately, by the time Carina Press bit on the book and published it in August of 2012, Jennifer L. Armentrout's book of the same title had come out in May. My editors at Carina said that wasn't the reason for the title change. Instead I sunk my own ship by first publishing the Facets of Passion books with them. Those were erotic BDSM contemporaries, also with one-word jewel titles: SAPPHIRE, PLATINUM, and RUBY. (Ironically, book 4, FIVE GOLDEN RINGS, was supposed to be called ORO, the Spanish word for gold, but Carina thought readers wouldn't get it. I'm still sorry about that retitling, too.)

It was a newbie author mistake. Had I realized that one-word jewel titles wouldn't work for two different series, in two different genres, from the same author at the same publisher, I would have cheerfully changed the Facets of Passion titles instead. Alas!

I'd love to get this trilogy back from Carina someday - largely because I've never liked these covers, either. Would I change the title back? I don't know... I wouldn't want readers to think I'm trying to trick them into reading something new that's actually old. 

What would you say?

    

Writing Through the Rough Patches

Getting past stuck or numb or despondent or any other major block is as individual as the writer, I suspect. I carry a bag of tools around (virtually, y'know) to help when I sit staring at a blinking cursor for too long. Try a few of them on for fit.

1. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. This is a 25 year old book about breaking through creative

blocks. It's still popular because for a lot of people, it works. I'm working through it myself, right now. If you try this, don't just read it. USE it. Even if it seems hokey.
2. Expeditions. No one creates in a vacuum. And sometimes all that's needed to shake the brain loose is a trip to a museum or art gallery or botanical garden. Maybe a hike in the woods or a trip to the beach. All safely masked and socially distanced, of course.
3. A break. I'm on writing hiatus this week - in part because another class of medication failed to prevent migraines and came with a host of really awful side effects. The weight of not getting the productivity I thought I ought to be achieving each day (while suffering chronic daily migraines) got to be more than sanity could support. Hence a little break. It's all good. I have a new med that seems to be helping and a little lightening of the load for a few days seems to really be shifting things. Don't overlook the power of a break to refresh you and your outlook.
4. Repetitive physical tasks. Bonus if they're outside. Many times, a block is little more than over thinking. Something I would know nothing about. 🙄 So I go out into the garden and pull weeds or plant flowers. Getting into the dirt is mostly a mindless task, but it takes just enough brain power to absorb the critical brain and leaves the subconscious/story brain free to do a little roving.
5. Create something else. Cook. Sew. Draw. Color. Paint. Build models. Whatever. Just make it something you don't make money from. No professional pressure. This is about wasting time on profitless (or so we imagine) play. You recover a little sense of joy in doing the things that aren't quite as fraught as writing.
6. Ask for an immersion weekend. Ask the fam to support and protect your weekend from all interlopers (including them). You need supportive and cooperative family for this one - because someone else has to take ALL responsibility for keeping life and limb together for a weekend while you do nothing but type as fast as you can on a story even if you don't know what happens next. The point here is to have people bring you things - tea, goodies. You're asking to be taken care of for two days while you let slip all responsibility for anything and everything. I won't pretend that guilt doesn't creep in. It does. Then you remind yourself that for two days nothing is your circus and those are not your monkeys. Someone else can handle them. Your circus is the story. Make it ridiculous just to see what happens.

It really helps to have an entire arsenal against stuckness. Not only do different people need different tools, what works for you one time may not the next, so having options tips this whole creating thing in your favor.

You can't write through your Achilles' heel when it's depression.

 I don’t want to write this blog post. I mean, I do, but I honestly really don’t. But I feel that I need to, even if this only reaches one person that needs to hear it. So, if you’re facing writer’s block, that Achilles' heel that you can’t seem to write through, and you’re empty and have lost all joy, this post is for you.

Writing Through Self-Doubt

Lots of books and workshops exist to help writers get "unstuck" (writerly term meaning, essentially, "what iz plots and words I cannot huh?"), and if  you are feeling the stick, I can recommend a few of those. (If you haven't already taken her courses or read her productivity books, I would 100% recommend Becca Syme. She's the best.) But what if your brand of stuckness isn't about time management or self-discipline and maybe goes deeper...to lack of self-confidence or even hopelessness?

That's often where I find myself, but when I try to describe the deep pit of cannotness, the person I'm talking to tends to get that blank look on their face and start backing away. Sometimes they'll recommend therapy or psychotropics. *shrug* I'm used to it, to the point that I don't even try to talk about it anymore. It's my own secret horror show.

But maybe I'm not the only writer out there who gets to this point (a lot)? Dunno. Just in case, here are a two things that work sometimes.

Critique Partners Who Actually Like What I Write

Okay, yes, I can rev myself up and get crit from strangers or professionals, and yes, all of that is helpful for craft and whatnot, but dude, when I'm sitting in my closet with my laptop, in tears because everything I write is a flaming turd, your critique sandwich with cute terms like "huh?" and "too stupid to live" is not going to help. It's going to anti-help. 

So I counter that kind of crit with a couple of crit partners who aren't about ripping stuff to shreds. Instead, they are about helping me grow as a writer. I know crazy, right? So they tell me not only what isn't maybe working but also what absolutely is. They help me build on the good stuff and snip out the bad. They lol in the margins and leave comments for my characters. They tell me when the ending needs more punch but don't tell me how they'd do it. 

It's like they trust me to make those story decisions myself. And, folks, when I'm in the Pit of Despair, that kind of trust is like soul medicine. If these amazing people think -- however misguidedly,  bless them -- that I am capable of moving on and making this story good, maybe there's hope for me yet. Self-confidence ticks up, I got this, poof=unstuck.

Caveat: It's hard finding crit partners who work for your particular brain. I've found the best ones are people who are my friends, who know when I absolutely can't handle a "you're making no sense here" comment and just need a "flagged things to revisit later, but for now: hooray for complete chapter and keep going!" encouragement. I've collected my little group over many years, but the basis in each relationship is respect. You can't have a crit partner you don't respect or who doesn't respect you. Some awe helps as well. Don't partner up with someone you think is not on your level, and def not with someone who thinks they're light years ahead of you. A mentor is not a crit partner. A mentor is a mentor.

Solitude

I hear all about writers who go to coffee shops or libraries or write-ins (none of which is happening a lot in covidlandia lately), and that fuels them. It settles differently over my head. When I'm around a lot of other writers and they are all doing their awesome thing, I feel smaller and smaller and less and less capable. But by myself, locked in a room with my laptop, I can write anything. I can think anything. I am free. (...to write the derpiest stuff in the history of written things but hey, it's made of words! And that matters!) When I'm at my lowest and stuckest, giving myself permission to write just anything --and have it completely suck--is a private thing. And sometimes also is the thing that makes it all start working again.  

If you're thinking, "Solitude, right, it's easier to find Clorox wipes than solitude in quarantine!" I hear you. Like, I really hear you. We're doing a lot of needs-must things right now, and many of them suck. The lack of alonetime is just part of that. We will get through this, but it'll take time, and I've given my writing career permission to stumble around for a bit. It's okay if I miss a trend. It's okay if there are long stretches between my releases. It's okay. Permission to fail, permission to pause, permission to just sit there and play Animal Crossing and let my brain bake itself in the struggling AC of a hotter'n-hell Texas summer. We will get through this. 

And, eventually, the self-confidence--and the writing--will get unstuck and work again. I have to believe this.